Grasping at Life
by SilverTippedWings
Summary: It is the 75th Hunger Games and a whisper of a rebellion lays in the air. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark are slated to go back into the Games. This time it won't just be 24 players, but 48. The world that we knew is dead, instead replaced by only one 'country' Panem. But do faint remains of the countries that made up Earth live on?
1. Chapter 1: The 75th Hunger Games!

Chapter One: The 75th Hunger Games!

Katniss Everdeen, stared at the tv. President Snow was in it, a small condescending smile on his face, his eyes as cold as his name. Her mind was tumbling over and over, just at the mere mention of the 'Games' starting again. She saw the dead eyes of Rue, the blown up face of Glimmer and countless others. It wasn't enough for them to haunt her dreams, no, she had to think about them in real life. And now there was talk of rebellions and uprisings. It was enough to set her blood pumping, but for what reason she couldn't quite identify. President Snow opened his mouth, and the Capital Crowd on tv fell to a hush. For some unknown reason, a sinking feeling began in the pit of her stomach. She hated the way he talked, silky and saccharine with venom lurking beneath each syllable.

"This year, as you may not know, is the 75th Hunger Games. Thus, making it the Second Quarter Quell of our fine country, Panem." He paused, letting that sink in. A gasp came from Katniss's mother, and she turned quizzically to her, but the tv called her attention back. A box had been placed on the table in front of which the President was speaking. Taking one of his hands, he slowly lifted the box's lid and pulled a slip of paper out. Facing the camera once more, his mouth opened.

"As always, the Quarter Quell features a twist to the usual style of our Hunger Games. And this year is no different." He held the slip up to his face, as if to see it better. "Adding on to last Quarter Quell's rule, there will be double the amount of tributes going in. But the age restraint is no longer from 12-18, instead everyone is eligible to become a tribute, no matter the age." Katniss couldn't fully comprehend what he had just said when he spoke again, this time, seeming to look straight at her, as if he knew she was watching. "No matter if they already participated in a Hunger Games already."

His words faded out, as she stared puzzled at the tv screen. Everyone around her seemed to be already getting what Snow had meant, but for several minutes she could just stare. And then it hit her. She was to face the Reaping bowl. Again.

The Reaping Day

Alfred stood in the 'boys' line. Though that term need no longer be used as there were not just boys in it, but full-grown men. He himself, thought he was safe this year. It had been several years since he had passed 18, the last year to fear the Reaping. Now, once again, he felt his palms get sweaty. Last year, Katniss and Peeta, had won together for District Twelve. They were like celebrities now. Scanning the crowd, he could see Peeta somewhere in the middle. His face would never be forgotten by Alfred. It was the face of a boy who had managed to outsmart the Hunger Games. Looking around quickly, he told himself he had to keep such dangerous thoughts to himself. The Capitol had sent more Peacekeepers in the last few months, and these were much more menacing then the old ones District Twelve always had. Alfred hoped his name wouldn't be called, not just for the obvious reasons. He had a secret, a secret he knew would endanger him.

Alfred couldn't grow old. He'd been alive since the beginning of the Hunger Games. And ever since he passed his birthday 'thirty' and still hadn't grown any older, he knew that something was wrong. Somehow, he had managed all these years. Faking his death, or simply disappearing, only to pass himself back into society. He had to switch his hair and his personalities each time. One day, Alfred knew that he would be found out. This could only last so long.

The terrible thing about never growing old, and as a side effect, never dying (Alfred wasn't stupid enough to endanger his life) was that he couldn't keep relationships. Couldn't get close to anyone. And he was forced to watch all seventy-four of the sickening Hunger Games. Each year, he cried. Even after decades, his heart was not hardened, his eyes not dried. In fact, it was almost like it got worse each year. Sometimes a fire would boil in his stomach and he had to resist himself from doing something out of the ordinary. Such as punching the nearest Peacekeeper or speaking of his hatred toward the Capitol. Toward Panem. Toward the horrible Games. But he was just one man, a man that didn't even know the reason as to why he was still living. There was nothing he could do.

But whispers of a rebellion were reaching District Twelve's ears. And Alfred's. If he could make it past this Reaping, maybe he could meet with some of these insurgents and finally, after years of wait, do something he could be proud of. Unbidden, his earliest memory came to him, right after the wreckage of the first rebellion.

_There was something wrong with his foot. And his arms, and his eyes. Why was everything so dark? He coughed, and his chest ached. There were distant noises. Other people maybe? Light began to slowly flicker in his vision, and then it came at once, blindingly. He shut his eyes from the agony, it was too bright, too bright. _

_"Son, how are you faring? You seem to have knocked up your leg pretty bad." A warm voice spoke to him, and he cracked an eye open. There was a figure, shrouded in dust and the dying light of the sun, standing in front of him. An arm reached down and picked the young man up. "Another survivor of the rebellion eh? You're a lucky one. Most of the people around this town are dead. Surprising, how you've managed to survive." _

_He blinked again, a sense of something important weighing on his mind. A rebellion? What was the man talking about. _

_"What's wrong boy? It seems you have a broken leg, and your arms are hanging all funny. It would seem you didn't survive without a few injuries." The world started to tip, and he vaguely recognized that they must be moving. "I can't just call you boy, I'll need to know your name to tell the Peacekeeper." _

_"P-peacekeeper?" He finally talked, his voice crackling to life. _

_"Yeah, Peacekeeper." The man's voice sounded slightly intrigued and confused. He had closed his eyes again, the light too overwhelmingly bright. And he was too tired to try and look get a look at the man's face. _

_"Cat got your tongue boy? What's your name?" _

_He searched the confines of his mind, but a name wasn't appearing. He was too tired to panic, he just wanted to sleep and not wake up for a long time. _

_There was a pause, then the man spoke again. "Well, I'll just have to give you one, if you won't reply. The Peacekeeper's will get suspicious." The man sucked in a breath and then let it out. "How about Arin Klems?" There was no response. The boy in his arms had already passed out. _

From there, Alfred had been taken care of. He never did find out who had saved him. Never was able to thank the man for the name, and for the second chance at life. Alfred remembered nothing from before the rebellion, only an aching in his heart, like he had lost something great. From then on, throughout the years he had taken on different aliases to suit the times. The current one, Alfred F. Jones, was one he rather liked, though he couldn't exactly tell why.

Escaping from his mind, he realized that Effie Trinket was announcing that she was going to pick the names. He must have missed her whole spiel, so wrapped in his thoughts. Of that he was perfectly fine with. Several minutes passed and then she was back at the microphone, a precious slip in her hand. The name she called out was one he didn't recognize. But it was a woman about thirty years old, her face pale and drawn. No one volunteered for her.

"Peeta Mellark." There was general cry of surprise throughout all the crowd. Alfred turned to look at the boy. What rotten luck it seemed, getting pulled for the Games twice. In a row, no less. This time, Peeta walked up to the stage, no expression on his face. He didn't even turn to look at Katniss, his fiancee waiting in the girl's line.

When the girl's name was called, before Effie could even look to find her, there was a loud cry.

"I volunteer as tribute."

Alfred whipped his head around, shock that Katniss Everdeen was volunteering again. What could be her motivation? Perhaps she wanted to protect her lover. Still, it seemed crazy to think that one would go so far as to put their life on the line once again.

When the other male tribute's name was called, Alfred had been too busy staring at the couple on stage to hear. It was only when a couple of Peacekeeper's started roaming through the male crowd when he started to listen to what Effie was saying.

"Alfred F. Jones, please come to the stage."


	2. Chapter 2: Reading the Enemy

**A/N**: And now we begin to meet the other countries. I hope you enjoy. I do not own Hetalia or Hunger Games regretfully.

**Chapter Two:** **Reading the Enemy.**

It was awkward in the train room. Alfred wiped his hands on his pants nervously. Looking around the room, he sized up the people in it.

Ferin Tone, the woman tribute, thirty years of age, thin and lost-looking.

Haymitch Abernathy, the mentor/past winner of the Hunger Games for District Twelve.

Effie Trinket, escort for District Twelve.

Peeta Mellark, past winner of the Hunger Games.

Katniss Everdeen, past winner of the Hunger Games.

And him. A man who could not grow old. That about summed up the room. Alfred couldn't help but already feel like he had lost the games. No one had come to see him after the ceremony. It figured, since he hadn't made any friends in this 'life.'

Dinner had been tense, him merely stuffing as much food into his mouth, grateful to finally eat for real again. And now they were settling down to watch the other tributes who were destined to die. He sensed that there was something going on between Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch. It was to be expected as the three of them had already been through this once before. Alfred hadn't even been able to talk to Haymitch, as the man looked already intoxicated by the time he came to dinner. This late in the day, he didn't even care. Tomorrow, he'd try and get some advice from his mentor. But for now, he was going to see which person would probably kill him.

District One flashed onto the screen. Names were called. The females was one burly looking woman of mid-twenties, a permanent scowl on her face, and a teenager with deadly eyes. One of the male candidates, mid twenties also, only looked shocked for a minute when his name was called, before he was up on stage. The whole rest of his screen time, he was blowing kisses to the crowd, causing several of the women to faint. Alfred blinked, almost sensing deja vu, but it was gone in a second. The second male candidate looked like a teenager, with surprisingly girlish looks. Both of the males had blonde hair.

Peeta whispered something to Katniss across the room, but Alfred couldn't catch the words, besides District Two was up next.

"Ivan Braginski!" When the intimidating male tribute stepped up, Alfred couldn't help but flinch. There was something about the man, that sent shivers down his spine.

"Scary, huh?" Peeta asked him, the first words he had spoken to Alfred all evening.

"Yeah, you could say." Alfred looked down and realized there were goosebumps all over his arms. The first female tribute looked just as scary, with long silver blonde hair. There was a freaky possessive look in her eyes whenever she turned to Ivan, and Alfred repressed a shudder, not wanting more commentary from Peeta, his rival.

A shy looking young man with short brown hair stepped to the stage. His name was sort of strange, something that Alfred found funny. But District Two was close to the Capitol, and they were known for their strange names.

District Three had two teenagers that looked very much like the one man from District Two.

District Four. A guy in his mid-twenties with glasses and a man around the same age with dark brown hair and a lithe body. There was woman in her forties and in her twenties.

District Five. Alfred's eyes were getting sleepy by now, he couldn't help but wish for his bed. The words around him grew fuzzier until he felt a touch on his shoulder. It was Haymitch.

"Can't have you falling asleep quite yet." He gruffly told Alfred, his breath smelling like spirits.

Shaking himself awake, embarrassed for falling asleep, his eyes scanned the tributes before it went to Nine. One man in particular stood out. A guy with thick-looking eyebrows that strangely didn't hinder the handsomeness of his face.

"There are quite the lookers in this batch." Effie giggled from the other side of the room.

_I'll say. _Alfred thought, a strange feeling at the sight of that man from District Eight. The rest went by rather quickly, and he found himself bored. One thing that caught the eye of everyone in the room was District Eleven's.

A young girl who looked only thirteen, with short blond hair and green eyes was called up. Alfred's heart went out to her. Looking across the room, he saw Katniss clenching her fists. No one liked seeing a tribute that young. When the male's name was called, a elderly-looking man looked on the verge of tears. Before he could move, a strong, gruff voice called out.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

All eyes in the room turned towards Katniss.

"Another volunteer? In District Eleven?" Haymitch mumbled more to himself than anyone.

The volunteer was a man that looked startlingly similar to the girl tribute.

"Why'd you volunteer sir? I don't believe you're related to that man." The escort looked surprised. As did the rest of the crowd.

"Lili's my sister. I'm not letting her go in the Hunger Games without me." The man said gruffly, looking at the girl, emotionless. She was blinking back tears.

"Katniss, his story is-"

"Like mine, almost." Katniss ended Peeta's sentence thoughtfully, a pained smile on her face.

Haymitch turned off the tv at District Twelve.

"Better get off to bed," he told them, he seemed to have sobered up a great deal after that display. Alfred headed to his room without a word.

**The Stylists.**

Katniss smiled for once with real warmth. She gave Cinna a much deserved hug.

"What's my outfit this time?" She asked her stylist.

"Portia and I decided on all four of you wearing the same outfits." Katniss had almost forgotten that she and Peeta weren't the only tributes for District Twelve. Just twenty-four more people to kill, she thought grimly. Or to watch die.

"Portia has the man right? Alfred?" She asked curiously.

"No, she has Ferin." Cinna corrected her, right as Alfred came through the door. The robe looked wrong on the man, making him look vulnerable. But he'd been cleaned up quite a bit, and Katniss had to admit, if anything, he looked more handsomer than when she first saw him. His glasses remained untouched though.

"I'm Alfred F. Jones, if you don't already know that," the man told Cinna. In turn, the stylist shook Alfred's hand warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, thought certainly not under these circumstances."

"I know, I was worried at first about our stylists but then I remembered how great Katniss and Peeta looked last year." Alfred smiled. It was a real smile, lighting up his face. Katniss hadn't been able to check out the other tributes much and she was intrigued in him. He had more spirit than the woman tribute, who didn't respond to anything Katniss asked of her.

"I thank you for your praise, but it was my job."

"So what are our costumes going to be this year?"

"Just you wait and see, you'll love them." Cinna said with a faint chuckle behind his voice. Alfred smiled again in response.

"Let's get started then, now shall we?" Cinna told the both of them, a gleam in his eye.

* * *

Gilbert stared at the outfit he was wearing. It made sense, considering what his district specialized in, but still. Dressed up in a strange yellow outfit with tufts of fluffy stuff around his neck made very little sense. Plus it looked incredibly un-awesome on him. Ah well, the only thing that cheered him up was the fact that Roderich, his uptight friend was forced to wear the same silly outfit. Roderich wouldn't look Gilbert in the eye, instead he stiffly got in the carriage beside the two female tributes, Linsen and MeiMei. One was a young teenager and the other was bitchy woman with problems with albinos. No one had ever laughed in his face when Gilbert told one of his jokes. He made a promise to himself that Linsen would be the first to go if he had a choice in such things.

The carriage took off, behind the other eight districts. Gilbert put his award-winning awesome smile on and couldn't help but playfully poke Roderich in the arm. He got an icy glare in return but Gilbert didn't care. He waved madly to the crowd, loving when they returned his waves. How could they not? He was awesome, so they just had to. Roderich even managed to force a smile out, his movements stiff as he tried to get as much attention as Gilbert was. Though the crowd was going wild over all the districts, it nearly went berserk when District Twelve came out. Feeling a streak of jealousy, Gilbert stared at District Twelve's shimmering black outfits, that seemed to catch every light that hit it and reflect it beautifully. _Some tributes get all the luck in their stylists. I'm definitely speaking with mine. No way am I wearing something as un-awesome as this to my interview. _He thought to himself.

When the carriages pulled up in front of President Snow, Gilbert threw a couple more waves before the speech. In the District One carriage, a certain blonde-haired figure was causing many of the onlookers to faint, the way he was throwing kisses and winking seductively. The stadium silenced with a reluctant hush when the President stood up. Gilbert couldn't quite describe it, but there was an eerie intense feeling of dislike whenever he saw that man. But he quieted down anyways, looking up expectantly at him.

* * *

President Snow watched as the tributes came down. They had used bigger chariots as it was needed for four to each seat. As he prepared for his speech, he eyed each and every tribute, already calculating who was going to die in the bloodbath. This year it was harder, as he found that many of the tribute looked like they could survive. But they all would eventually die, leaving only one to survive. His eyes narrowed at the District Twelve chariot, namely on one mere slip of a girl who had been causing him more trouble than he'd ever had. She was going to die in these games, before she became too big of a problem.


	3. Chapter 3: Meeting the Others

**A/N: **I do not own Hetalia or the Hunger Games. Thank you to all who took the time to read and review for the last few chapters. :)

**Chapter Four: Meeting the Others**

Ivan wasn't listening to the woman's lecture, he was trying to eye the woman on his right. Natalie. Ever since the Reaping, she had latched herself onto Ivan, declaring that the two were going to be allies whether he liked it or not. Frankly, he didn't know what to think of her. Everywhere he turned she was right beside him. He'd even found her outside his room one night. That had freaked him out the most, and he had hurriedly pushed past her slamming the door on the crazy woman. All night he had had nightmares that she was scratching the wood outside his door.

Looking around him, he couldn't help but feel that the people in the room looked familiar. It was on the edge of his tongue, but he knew that he'd seen them before the Reaping. Of course, it could just be that his mind was playing tricks on him with the stress from the Games. When the instructor said they could start, Ivan headed for the axes, knowing that he could throw them well. Plus, he could use it as a buffer between him and Natalie.

* * *

"Who are you again?" Ludwig rubbed at his temples.

"I'm Matthew." The boy with glasses replied Ludwig was at the knife-throwing station, trying to create conversation with the people around him. He needed some allies, desperately. Though Ludwig knew that he could probably tough it out for the last few days of the Hunger Games, he would need back-up till then.

"You look like that guy from District Twelve. Allen?" Ludwig told the boy.

"Yes." Matthew frowned at this answer. "It's merely a coincidence, I've never met the man before in my life."

"Hey, Lovino! Let's try this station!" A red-haired man almost crashed into Ludwig. He held out his arms and steadied the guy.

"Watch where you're going." He informed him. The young man looked up into his eyes and Ludwig's forehead creased. They were the most innocent pair of eyes he'd ever seen. What was this man doing in the Hunger Games? He'd be surely killed in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia.

"Feliciano! What did I tell you about leaving me-" Ludwig noticed that someone, from the looks of it, his older brother, was coming up from behind him. "Who are you?" He asked Ludwig with pure hostility in his voice.

"Ludwig."

"I'm sorry sir! Please, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to run into you, don't get angry with me. I hate it when people get angry, and you look angry right now-"

"Shut your mouth, Feli, he's going to get even more angrier if you apologize like that."

"You're angry with me?" Feliciano looked up into his face again, a couple of tears leaking from his eyes. _Is he for real? _Ludwig wondered.

"N-no. Not yet." He replied.

"You better not be, bastard." The other one replied resentfully. "C'mon Feli."

They walked away with Feliciano waving cheerfully to Ludwig. He felt his stomach sink. He had a feeling that he'd be seeing a lot of those brothers in the next few days.

* * *

Katniss was back at the knot-tying station again, with Peeta. The instructor seemed quite happy to see them again, as they were regular visitors last time. She had been told by Haymitch that in order for her to survive these games, she would need to get into the Career pack. That was why she was keeping a close eye on the two blonde-haired men from District One. To her surprise they hadn't done much most of the morning. Perhaps they were keeping their skills hidden until the Games.

"Hello miss Katniss Everdeen, a pleasure to meet you." Before she could even react, a pair of lips were on her left hand, and a head with golden locks right before her eyes.

"H-hello?" _Oh nice. Stammer at the chance of getting Peeta to survive in these Games. _

"I don't believe I've introduced myself, I am Francis Bonnefoy." The man stood back up and smiled seductively at her. His voice was dripping with charm. "It would be a pleasure to become your ally." Before she could stutter out another word, someone made a disgusted noise behind her. She turned and saw that it was the district eight man, the one with the thick eyebrows.

"Oh, if it isn't Arthur Kirkland. Still upset about that comment I made last night about your outfit?" Francis turned away from her for a second, his voice faintly amused.

"Honestly, if you're what qualifies for a Career these days, it shouldn't be too hard to win these Games." Arthur replied scornfully.

"Hey Francis! Like, I totally found us someone for the Career pack."

Francis turned around and frowned. "Who is this?"

"Toris! He's from District Five and he totally knows how to paint camouflage."

"Idiot! You think that's really going to help us? Though he is good-looking," Francis winked at said subject who looked extremely nervous.

Katniss took this moment to escape with Peeta. She didn't know why, but the Francis guy was really creeping her out.

"I guess we should try District Two."

"Sure." Peeta nodded. "Though I don't know how they could be any better, the one guy exudes power and the other girl seems to have immense strength."

"The other two look just as useless to us." Katniss ran a hand through her hair. "Honestly, I don't even know why Haymitch should have even bothered telling us to get into the Pack this year. He knows I'm terrible with people in general."

"Shh, someone's coming," Peeta gently told her. "I'm going to attempt to create friends with that Ivan kid, you just go relax." With that he left her at the archery area. She felt grateful to him and resolved her promise to keep him alive in the games. He seemed to recognize both her weak and strong points. Taking a bow and arrow, she began shooting the targets just to get her mind off of things.

"I'm no good at this." A young girl beside her sighed. "Big brother, you shouldn't bother teaching me, you should go learn something useful for yourself."

Vash frowned, and shot another arrow, hitting bulls-eye. "See Lili? It's not that hard, try it again. Besides, I already told you that all I care about is your safety. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself."

"Alright," Lili tried it again but ended up almost hitting Katniss who was beside them with a wayward arrow.

"I'm so sorry!" Lili cried out. Katniss had ducked at the arrow, managing to miss it just in time. She turned to assure the girl it was okay, but her breath caught in her throat. Up close she looked just like her little sister, Prim. A flash of a blood-stained meadow and flowers appeared. Would she die just like Rue?

"It's okay. I don't mind." Katniss finally replied, getting a hold of herself.

"Lili, I found the arrow," Vash had went to fetch it and he immediately narrowed his eyes at Katniss. "You're that girl."

"Um, yeah, I'm Katniss." She almost stepped back at the fierce look in his eyes.

"How's your sister doing?"

Katniss had to blink before she realized he meant Prim. Funny, how much people knew about her and her family now that she was 'famous.'

"Prim's fine." After a silence, Katniss spoke again. "Do you want to be my ally?"

"What?"

"I think you and I would work well together, along with Peeta and your sister."

Vash stared at her for a moment.

"Big brother, I think we should agree." Lili piped up. He looked down at her and his eyes softened slightly.

"Lili, go over there for a moment." After she was gone, Vash turned to Katniss. "Whatever, we can become allies and whatnot." He stepped closer to her, keeping his voice low. "But if you even so much as look at Lili the wrong way, I won't hesitate to kill you."

Katniss stared after him as he went after his sister, struck dumb by the level of devotion he had to his sister. She understood how he felt but she'd never be so...aggressive in her protection of Prim. From the back, Lili didn't look at all like Prim, except for the eyes, the same innocent fear lurked beneath the irises of the both of them.

* * *

Antonio experimented with the climbing, finding it rather easy to scamper up the ropes, his lithe frame giving easily to each stretch. Behind him, several of the other tributes weren't faring so well. One was a particularly old lady who looked ready to die of heart failure very soon. _I'm going to have to kill her? _Antonio thought to himself with a flicker of regret. He would do what he had to to stay alive, even if it meant killing this woman.

After making it to the ceiling, he scrambled back down, making sure not to run into anyone. Once on the floor, he took a couple deep breaths, his arms and hands sore from hanging onto the rope.

"I refuse to do it."

"Yao, we're going to need to learn how to climb. What if there are trees in the Arena?"

"These feet will stay planted on the ground."

"You're not afraid of heights are you?"

"...Of course not!"

Antonio looked to find the source of the argument and was met with two male tributes. One had long hair tied back into a ponytail, the other one had short black hair. The one named Yao stared at the ropes and shook his head. "I'm not going to do it. Let's learn something useful like how to use a mace."

"Alright." The short haired one finally agreed to his companion. Antonio watched them walk away, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to become allied with them. Probably not. But it did give him an advantage over the one name Yao. That long hair would be easy to grasp onto and pull in the throes of a fight.

* * *

Alfred picked up one of the heavy metal balls and proceeded to throw it at the targets, getting more into it with each swing. He didn't even remember the last time he used his strength. It was refreshing, and it helped calm him. It also satisfied him whenever he saw it go through a target. Now if only they had large metal balls in the Cornucopia and he would be fine.

"Looks like you're pretty strong." Alfred turned around and noticed the guy from district eight.

"Yeah, well, it probably won't help me much in the Games." He answered back, throwing the ball he had in his hand before turning around to talk better with the guy. "It's not like I have chance against those with weapons. Brute strength can only go so far."

"True. That's probably when having someone who knows how to work a sword and a knife around is handy." The guy responded.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. Was the man asking to be allies or just speaking to hear himself talk?

"I guess. I can survive just fine on my own, I am-"

"A hero, I know." The guy finished his sentence. Alfred's eyebrows rose even further up. He had meant to say that he was perfectly capable, but that worked too. Somehow the words seemed familiar, especially with the voice of the man in front of him.

"I'm sorry, you are...?"

"Arthur Kirkland, district eight tribute." The man held out his hand as if he wanted Alfred to shake it. A polite smile was on his face but his eyes were unreadable. Alfred suspiciously took it, feeling the firm calloused hand enclose his own.

"I'm Alfred F. Jones."

"I know, you're the idiot that didn't hear his name being called to get on stage."

Alfred had to stop himself from squeezing the other man's hand. Trying to come up with a snarky response he said the first thing that came to his mind. "Why didn't you let the stylist's wax those huge eyebrows of yours?"

Arthur quickly dropped Alfred's hand and narrowed his eyes at him. "Why didn't your mother teach you manners?"

The two stared at each other, the air tense between them, before Alfred finally broke it. "Yeah, well it's been _nice _meeting you,"

"I can't say the same." Arthur replied coolly. Alfred clenched his fists, but kept them at his side, he knew Arthur was goading him.

"See you, eyebrows."

* * *

Elizaveta threw up her left fist right into the other woman's face, hearing a satisfying smack. The woman finally tumbled to the ground and Elizaveta stood above her with a smug smile on her face before her manners kicked in and she offered the older woman a hand. The hand was knocked off with a glare and the woman got up and hobbled away. Shrugging, Elizaveta went and found a towel, wiping her hands on them. Her hair had been put in pigtails by her stylists, which kept it easily out of her way. She turned back around, already finished with this station. It was obvious that she excelled at hand-to-hand combat.

"Willing to give me and my friend a try?"

Surprised, Elizaveta turned around and found herself face to face with a white-haired, red-eyed man. Her eyes narrowed, she recognized him from the Reaping. He looked cocky as hell and she always despised people who thought they were better than anyone else.

"Sure, if you can handle it." Elizaveta challenged him. She remembered that he had said 'friend' and she turned to look to see who it was. Behind the albino there was a slightly shorter man with glasses and a smooth composure. Elizaveta twitched before she got a hold of herself.

"The name's Awesome and this here's Roderich the less awesome." Mr. Arrogant told her.

"Oh, is that so?" Elizaveta replied icily. _Who does this guy think he is? _

"His name's really Gilbert," Roderich wearily told her. Their eyes connected and Elizaveta guessed that Roderich was used to 'Awesome's personality traits.

"So, how about it? You ready to take us strong men down?" Gilbert flexed one of his arms and Elizaveta resisted the urge to laugh. _It's so on. _

The albino and the fiery woman went to the mat and Elizaveta didn't hold back any of her strength. Gilbert only managed to pull a few punches here and there before he found himself on the floor, wheezing.

"Heh, heh, heh. I guess the breakfast I had today didn't give me as much awesome power as I thought it would. Tomorrow I'll definitely beat you, heh heh heh." Gilbert told her, still having the guts to smile smugly on the ground.

Her fist curling again, Elizaveta managed to stop herself from punching his face again. She turned to Roderich.

"Do you want to go next?" She asked, trying to compose herself.

Roderich put his hands up. "No thank you, I know a loss when I see one." He turned and looked at his companion with a mild look of disappointment on.

"If only you had hit him in the mouth, that might have shut him up."

Elizaveta stifled a chuckle at Roderich's dry sense of humor.

"Hey! I'm still down here. Roderich, help me up."

"I would have thought someone so _awesome _as you would be able to get up by themselves." Elizaveta said coolly. Gilbert flashed her a small glare before jumping to his feet.

"Heh, I was just giving Roderich here something to do. See you tomorrow, Eliza." Gilbert said, pulling a tired Roderich with him. Elizaveta watched them go, and found herself puzzled by something strange. She had never told Gilbert her name. So how did he know?


	4. Chapter 4: Interviews

**A/N**: I don't own Hetalia or Hunger Games.

**Chapter Five: The Interviews**

"Pay attention Katniss, what with your stubborn insistence on only being allies with that boy and his sister and those District Six idiots, this interview means everything to you and Peeta's safety. Just don't ruin it, okay?" Haymitch left without letting her answer him. Rolling her eyes, Katniss went to stand beside Peeta, Alfred and Ferin in line. She had managed to upset the Gamemakers in her private session and so had Peeta. They had both been given a 12 which made them likely targets for many of the other 46 tributes. Watching the screen, she watched as District One go on. Since there were so many tributes, they were being interviewed in groups of two, males and females separately.

Katniss' stomach knotted when she remembered what she had done. Why had she gone and hung the doll of Seneca Crane? And why had Peeta painted that obviously rebellious picture? They were doomed now. President Snow already hated her and he was going to make sure that she and Peeta wouldn't make it out of the Games alive. She didn't care about herself but she wanted Peeta to live. He needed to live, he was too good to die.

Haymitch had been pretty suspicious lately, talking with some people she didn't recognize around the Capitol and staying after with some of the other mentors. Peeta had told her that something had happened in District Eleven, after the whole fiasco during their visit. It had happened because they rebelled. Just like District Twelve had gotten new, deadlier Peacekeepers. It seemed President Snow was keeping a tighter grip on his citizens.

* * *

Caesar Flickerman smiled at the Capitol crowd and the millions of people watching on tv. This year his hair was a startlingly purple and his eyebrows a soft lavender color. He waved good-bye to the two female tributes for District One and invited the male ones onstage.

"Francis and Feliks, welcome to the Capitol's stage!"

Francis bowed while Feliks fluttered his hand towards the crowd. When they sat down, Caesar smiled encouragingly at them.

"So how do you like Capitol so far?" Caesar asked, opening them up the stage.

Francis went first smiling at the audience, a natural on tv. "Everything is so beautiful here, especially the _women._"

There were a couple of gasps in the crowd and Caesar smiled happily back. "Of course."

Feliks looked at his nails, feigning boredom or he could really just be bored. "I guess, like, the stylists are cool. They did give me a totally cool outfit."

Feliks' hair was curled and fell around his face, while his outfit was a shimmering blue shirt and tight white pants that attracted the eye to him. _But with a strangely feminine vibe._ Caesar thought. Little did he know Feliks had wanted to wear a skirt or a dress but the stylists wouldn't let him.

"Do you have any strategies for the Games?" Caesar asked winking to the crowd.

"Feliks and I already have a little posse assembled," Francis began.

"Yeah, we aren't going to tell you a secret yet because that would be like totally giving it away." Feliks ended.

"Ooh, then we're just going to have to see, won't we?" Caesar answered pleasantly.

Right before they got off, Francis had managed to sneak a rose onstage, hidden in his pocket and he threw it at the audience, blowing a kiss in the general direction. There was a scrambling and then a loud exclamation as someone had managed to get it.

* * *

"So, I'm sure we've all noticed that you and the lady are getting on real good. Is there anything happening there?" Caesar nudged Ivan, a little reluctantly. _The man is intimidating! _

"No. We are just allies." It was a good thing Ivan didn't hear the little creepy giggle from said _ally _backstage.

"I see." Caesar nodded knowingly to the crowd.

"Im Yong Soo, is it?" Caesar asked the other tribute, who nodded eagerly. "Are you getting pumped for this?

"Yes, I'm very excited for the games. It'll be a new experience for me." The tribute answered with a small smirk.

"Yes, so it shall be for me too." Ivan said smiling innocently with a hint of cruelty.

_I'll make sure it will be, my dear Ivan. _Natalie thought watching the interviews.

* * *

"I love the pasta here! The pasta is so good, you must have amazing chefs to make such good pasta." Feliciano told Caesar eagerly.

"Yeah, the food's okay." Lovino told Caesar, eyeing the crowd with apprehension.

"Me and my big brother are going to stick together during the Games!" Feliciano told Caesar proudly.

"My there are a lot of siblings in this game aren't there?" Caesar wondered out loud.

"Just more people to take down." Lovino said rolling his eyes. Despite his grumpy exterior many of the people watching couldn't help but think he was pretty handsome.

"Oh, but Lovino, you know we're not supposed to discuss that yet!" Feliciano smiled at his brother who grunted in response.

"Well it's not like-"

"Did I tell you? Lovino met someone he liked during the training session." Feliciano said to Caesar conspiratorially.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it was this-"

"Feliciano, how about we not discuss that also?" Lovino told his brother, seeming to hold back his anger with difficultly. His face flushed bright red at the mention of the certain 'someone' though.

_He looks even cuter when he does that. _Caesar thought amused. _He might be able to get a few sponsors just from his looks. _

The buzzer rang and Caesar waved good-bye to the two, chuckling cheerfully.

* * *

"No one's going to get even near my sister during the Games, if I have any say in it." Vash growled at Caesar and the tv audience threateningly.

"I think that's beautiful, how devoted you are to your sister. I wish you luck in your endeavor." Caesar told Vash sincerely.

"Thank you." Vash told him stiffly.

The other male tribute seemed to be having some trouble focusing on the audience, his head nodding off every now and then and his eyes half-closed.

"Heracles? Tell me about the ten you got on your evaluation."

Pulling himself awake, the tired man oriented himself for a moment. "Ah, I simply showed them how to throw spears accurately."

Vash scowled at this and eyed Heracles with contempt. Caesar laughed and then hurriedly changed the subject before Vash got too upset.

* * *

When District Twelve came out, Caesar let out a huge smile.

"Peeta! It's certainly nice meeting you again." Caesar said clapping a hand on the blonde's shoulders. Alfred struck a pose when he came out.

"So, Alfred, tell me. Do you have any thoughts as to what you're going to do when you go into the Games?"

"Yes. I'm going to be a hero." Alfred told Caesar. There was a pregnant pause. It would be hard being a hero if you were forced to kill all those around you.

"Do you have any heroic poses for us?" Caesar asked him, not missing a beat.

Alfred nodded and stood up, doing a few more. He had had no idea what he was going to do for the interviews, so he had just borrowed the line from Arthur. Much as he didn't want to admit it, it was very catchy and seemed to fit him. After he sat down the audience had gotten over their initial shock and cheered madly. Finally, after Caesar was done with Alfred he turned to Peeta.

"I'm sure all of us here were saddened to hear that you wouldn't be able to go through with the wedding." Caesar told Peeta who nodded mournfully in return.

"Well, if you can keep a secret, I have something to say." Peeta paused, letting that sink in. "We're already married. When we found out we'd both be going back in the Games, we snuck into each other's rooms late one night and said the vows."

There was a gasp of sheer sadness throughout the crowd. The poor star-crossed lovers had just become more than a tragedy.

"At least you two will be able to be together during the Games." Caesar said trying to offer some sort of comfort.

"That's what I thought too, but the problem is, Katniss won't be going in alone." Peeta said with a sad little grimace. The crowd was confused, but he managed to elaborate. "You see, she's also pregnant."

That sent an uproar through the crowds as people comprehended what exactly the two were going through. Alfred sent a sideways glance to Peeta. In all the time he had spent with Peeta and Katniss, they had never mentioned the wedding or having a child together. Something told him Peeta was lying. _What does he have up his sleeve? _Alfred wondered to himself.

* * *

The night before the games, Alfred was on the rooftop, his head in his hands, scattered thoughts flying through his head. _I don't want to do this. Tomorrow, there's going to be so much bloodshed, and for once I won't be watching it. _I'll _be in it. Can I live with myself if I kill any one of the other tributes going in the games? Will I want to live with myself after that? _Alfred let out a small groan of frustration and looked up at the stars, a pained expression on his face.

"You okay?" He turned around quickly, surprised to see Arthur behind him.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He told the other tribute, not wanting to seem weak. It also embarrassed him to be seen at his most vulnerable point by anyone. Alfred was a private person, had been all his life, and it was hard to open up.

"You better get to sleep soon, or you'll be tired tomorrow," Arthur told him after there was an awkward pause in the conversation, studying him hard.

"Yeah. I guess." Alfred made a noncommittal noise. What was he doing up here? His quarters were half-way up the building. And surely the peacekeeper's hadn't let him take a little midnight ride to the rooftop?

Alfred sensed that this encounter was going nowhere and stood up, ready to leave. He was startled by a hand on his shoulder. Looking up into his companion's green eyes, he gulped. Arthur seemed at a loss of what to say before he narrowed his eyebrows. Alfred stiffened, he was probably going to get a death threat or something by the tough look in Arthur's eye.

"Tomorrow, in the Arena...do you have any allies?" Arthur asked him, grunting out the words.

"Uh, yeah. But only one, this guy named Matthew. He kind of looked like-" Alfred stopped, suddenly glaring at Arthur. Why did he want to know that? _Damn it!_ He had just given away vital information...

"Would you like to become allies?" Arthur interjected.

_Say what? _"Sure, I guess." Alfred rubbed at the back of his neck. "Isn't it kind of late now?"

"Say no, I don't care, I just don't want to see you die quite yet." Arthur retorted, looking away from the taller man. Alfred opened his mouth to say something equally biting back, but stopped himself. He was being offered another chance at survival, it was better to keep his mouth shut and not blow it.

"That's not what I meant. I think it would benefit both of us if we were allies." Alfred stated and held out his hand after a moment's thought. Arthur stared at it as if he'd never seen it before.

Alfred chuckled. "Hey man, I'm trying to say we should shake on it, you know. It'll seem more official."

"Hmm. Whatever makes you happy." Arthur grasped Alfred's hand and the two shook firmly and quickly before letting go.

"See you bright and early." Arthur grimaced and went away again. Alfred watched him as he disappeared then a thought occurred to him. He had forgotten to ask if Arthur had any other allies, just so he didn't accidentally kill them.


	5. Chapter 5: The Arena

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Hunger Games.

Chapter Five: Going into the Arena

Katniss tried to punch the glass, her face struck with horror as Cinna was dragged away by the Peacekeepers. _No. This can't be happening. Not Cinna. _Tears appeared on her face and she had to breathe in a shaky breath. Her fists tightened. _This is all just a huge game to them. They want to weaken me, so I have to show them that this will only make me fight harder. _Katniss looked at the closing door as she was lifted upwards. _Cinna..._ She whispered in her mind and then quickly dried her tears.

Being lifted up into the arena, she looked around at the sight. Her eyes widened but that was about the only hint of fear that she gave to the cameras. The Cornucopia was the same metal construction that she remembered it to be, and the other tributes were still in the circle around it, on grassy flat land, but other than that it was immensely different. On the right side there was a huge mountain. Leading up to the top of it were several different paved roads, carved into the side of the gigantic rock. To the left there was a densely packed forest, but the trees were clustered so close together, it looked difficult to get through them. In front of her, beyond the Cornucopia was a huge grassy plain with hedges erected to make different roads into it. And finally behind her was a desert with rocks and prickly looking cactus's scattered around it in lines. It was essentially, one big labyrinth made up by nature with the Cornucopia the finish point.

She turned to look at Peeta, but saw that he was scanning the different options. The desert, the mountain, the forest or the hedges. All of them seemed equally dangerous, which was the point. He turned and made eye contact with her. Grab some sort of weapon and head for the forest maze, his eyes seemed to be saying. She nodded imperceptibly and prepared herself for the timer to go off.

The buzzer went off and she was running. Katniss pumped her legs, barely able to see what was in front of her because of the chaos. Bodies were everywhere, a flash of hair, a glint of silver, cries of fear and defeat rose up to ears. She had made it to the Cornucopia, and her eyes flashed around for a suitable weapon to use. Reaching out she grabbed a knife in the mass of weapons and held it out in front of her, head whipping around. A girl with dark blonde hair saw her and tried to throw an axe at her face, but Katniss ducked and rolled to the side, only to have the axe pin down her hair. Remaining calm, Katniss attempted to pull it out of the ground, putting on bursts of strength. Finally pulling it free she held onto it, not sure how it'd come in handy but it was an extra weapon. Scooping up some plastic looking bags she ran for the forest. Once she got there, she looked around for Peeta. He had only managed to get a spear. Katniss didn't even flinch when she saw an elderly woman fall to the ground, but she did send a thought to the woman's family.

"We need to go Katniss." Peeta told her and she nodded. Maybe it had been silly to create allies, what with the arena the way it was now, it seemed impossible to move around in large groups. They set off running, occasionally looking behind them in hopes that no one else was following them. They had picked one of the roads to the far end of the forest, and it soon grew quite dark with the foliage from the trees blocking the sunlight. There were still streams of light, but it was few and far between. Katniss tried not to remember about the last time she and Peeta had been in a forest like this. The day she had seen Cato die. The day they had won.

A rustling came from behind them, and Katniss pulled Peeta behind her, holding up her knife, having at least learned a little bit how to use it. She missed her bow and arrow, but hadn't been able to find one in the bloodbath. In front of them, there appeared a small woman, Linsen Hanes had been her name. She must have been able to procure a small tube or something. Katniss narrowed her eyes, what was the woman going to do? They stood like that for a second before Katniss threw her knife aiming for the woman's collarbone. In turn, the woman brought the tube to her lips and blew, causing a small dart to fly out of it, heading straight for Katniss's chest. Peeta grabbed her and was able to pull her out of the way, but the dart nicked his hand. They didn't have time to worry about that as Linsen was already putting another dart in and bringing it to her lips, despite the knife in her collarbone. Blood was streaming down it and she seemed to have difficultly breathing.

Right as she was going to blow again, her body seemed to flinch. Linsen took a step towards them and Peeta held up the spear. The step faltered and her knee gave way, causing her to fall to the ground. Katniss turned to see what had prompted her fall and saw Vash standing behind her, a solemn look on his face. He held a mace-like thing in his hands. Vash looked up at the pair, giving them a cursory nod.

"We are allies, right?"

"Y-yes." Peeta managed to get out. "Thanks for that."

"No problem." Vash grunted in response and he beckoned to someone in the bushes, who turned out to be his little sister. Katniss felt her heart bloom a little at seeing that small innocent face.

"We better get going." Vash told them and he started off in the same direction, not even glancing at the woman on the ground. They all followed after him, his sister sticking close to his side, holding the hand not clenched around the mace. After nearly a half-hour, they found that the forest road that they were on had opened up to a medium sized pond with several different roads leading to it.

"This will have to do." Vash said gruffly. "My sister's getting tired from running."

Katniss nodded and looked towards Peeta finally seeing the cut on his hand. She bent down and plucked some of the ferns on the ground and went to the pond, wetting them. She gently wiped at his hand, hoping that they could get a sponsor to give them something. It looked nasty and it was purpling greatly.

"Those were poison darts." Vash said from behind them, where he was cleaning off his weapon in the pond. "He's lucky, if it had hit him straight on, he'd be dead."

Katniss nodded in response.

"Big brother, how are we going to get food?" Lili finally spoke up, her voice sweet and quiet.

"We're going to go hunting, I suppose." Vash replied, his voice softening a little bit at his sister's words.

Peeta's eyes were going a bit hazy and his forehead was warm.

"The effects of the poison should wear off by the end of the night. It'd probably do well just to leave him be while his body fights it off." Vash added.

"Don't do anything stupid." Peeta told Katniss, his breathing hitching a little bit as he grimaced.

"I won't." Katniss said and moved him over to a massive tree trunk, laying him against it. "You keep holding on. I'll get us food."

She had gotten the knife back from the woman before they left. She'd make a few traps and then hopefully her aim with a knife was at least partly close to her aim with a bow and arrow. That is, if the arena even had animals to hunt. Sighing, she set off into the forest, keeping her eyes and ears wide open.

* * *

Alfred hadn't even been listening when he had heard the buzzer go off, so he was a split second too late to get going. He knew then that if he tried to get to the Cornucopia, he'd die. A small smile came on his face, that's why he had allies, _right? _He skirted far away from the Cornucopia and the ensuing bloodbath, trying not to hear the screams and the whimpers and ran towards the mountain. A few other people had decided to follow him, but they got stopped by many of the Careers. Alfred turned around surprised that no one had followed him, but then realized it was because they were occupied with torturing a certain tribute. A gasp came from Alfred, and he didn't even need to think. His feet turned straight around and ran back, despite the fact that he had no weapons. All he had with his idiotic determination to save the small tribute.

"Step away from him!" Alfred yelled as he came barreling forward, a look of murder on his face. The two women looked up and grinned maniacally at him. They were both from District One, and Alfred tried not to even gulp. He just flitted forward and grabbed Matthew by his clothes, easily picking him up and throwing him on his back.

Natalie let loose a knife and Alfred ducked and held out his hand, managing to get it embedded in his palm. He hissed in pain but kept staring the crazy psychotic woman down. He almost didn't notice the other tribute coming up behind him, but Matthew cried out from where he was currently on Alfred's shoulder and Alfred whipped around, trying to get the knife out of his hand. Blood was gushing down his arms and he felt his vision going faint.

This woman was burly and quite evil-looking. She had a massive club in her hands and she swung it at him, making Alfred duck again. He had to get out of this situation. But Natalie kept throwing the knives at him, her aim pretty well. He got one in his shoulder and another one sliced open the left side of his body. The pain was enough to get adrenaline in his legs and he started running. It was a good thing he was strong, or he would have collapsed under not only Matthew's weight but the sheer mass of blood leaving his system. Alfred looked behind him, and cursed when he saw that the Natalie woman was still following. The other one had already gone back to torment some other tributes. Alfred tried to think of something he could do to distract her, but nothing came. Matthew thought turned his head to face Natalie and pointed behind her.

"It's Ivan!" Matthew cried softly. "He's getting attacked."

Alfred would have been amused at her reaction if he currently was trying not to pass out. She whipped her head around and scanned the whole Cornucopia area, sheer murder in her eyes. Alfred chose that moment to duck in the hedges, not his original idea, but it was better than nothing. He ran for a few moments, knowing that when his legs gave way underneath him, he'd be done for. Better to get as far away as he could. Alfred didn't hear the shouts of his current passenger. He had almost forgotten Matthew was there.

Alfred staggered and turned one more corner finding himself in some sort of freakish garden. He fell to the ground and laid Matthew on the ground. Matthew stared at him for a few moments while Alfred smiled sheepishly.

"Idiot! Why the hell did you come and rescue me? I know we're allies but-"

"I wasn't going to sit and watch them kill you." Alfred told the man, his eyes closing in pain when he finally realized the extent of his wounds. "Plus I got a few good knives out of that."

He then began pulling out the one in his hand, but soft hands stopped him.

"Let me," Matthew said and gently pulled the two knives out, frowning immensely at Alfred. Even when he was chiding Alfred off, his voice was still gentle and soft.

"I don't even know you. Why would you go to such lengths to rescue me?" Matthew asked quietly, wiping the knives across his lap. Alfred shrugged.

"It was the right thing to do."

Matthew stared at Alfred for awhile, a thoughtful look coming on his face. His mysterious eyes bored into Alfred's.

"We better get those wounds of you checked up." Matthew finally said breaking eye contact and pulling out a small pack that Alfred hadn't seen before.

"Where you'd get that?" Alfred exclaimed and then groaned.

"This was the reason I had Natalie and that other woman after me." Matthew opened it and pulled out some bandages and strange white looking stuff. "I knew that I'd be unable to use the weapons, so I found the medicine instead. It was funny y'know. They didn't even notice me until I was half-way away." Matthew then began wrapping his hand, putting some of the white stuff on the cut. He did the same to the shoulder and the gash in the side of Alfred.

"Hey, shouldn't you be helping yourself?" Alfred said pointing towards a small cut in Matthew's forehead. He stopped talking when Matthew pulled a the bandage a bit tighter around his stomach.

"No. Because one small gash is not as life-threatening as three very bleeding wounds." Matthew replied shortly. "Just let me take care of you, okay? I do owe you for saving my life."

Alfred didn't say anything after that and only watched as Matthew put some of the white stuff on his cut. Now that he thought about it, it was pretty stupid of him to go running after Matthew. But he hadn't been able to think. It had only been a split-second glance but he had felt a surge of protectiveness for his ally. Something that seemed too deep for someone he had only met recently.

"Am I interrupting the party?" A wry voice asked them. Matthew looked up and grabbed hold of the knives, holding them in his hand. A certain eye-browed man from District Eight was standing at the entrance of the garden with a certain smug half-smile on his face.

"Matthew, don't!" Alfred tried to get one of the knives, but the other resisted. "He's our ally."

"Since when?" Matthew asked still keeping the same damned grip on the weapons.

"Since uh, last night."

"..."

"I'm guessing you didn't tell him." Arthur sighed and held up both of his hands. "Matthew, it's true, I asked him last night to be allies. The fool probably was too thick-headed to tell you."

Matthew relaxed his grip on the knives but his eyes still flashed. "The _fool _saved my life, so I don't want to hear it from you."

Alfred was shocked by his defensive reply, but it made a little bit of sense. They both did just have a near-death experience and if that didn't bond two people, what would?

Arthur sat down beside them. He had managed to get more supplies than they had for some reason. He looked pretty useless but maybe Arthur did have some hidden strength or something. Alfred snorted quietly at the thought.

"What happened to you?" Arthur finally asked the both of them, surprise evident on his face.

"He he he. I found Mattie here getting beat up by some crazy Careers so I was all like I'm going to save the day and I rushed in and picked him right up and ran away."

Matthew sighed at his new nickname while Arthur attempted to decipher the glob of a sentence Alfred had just told him.

"And the cuts?" Arthur finally asked wearily.

"You know that insane woman from District One? The one with all the knives? Yeah, well apparently she knows how to use them also." Alfred chuckled. "So Mattie and I got hurt."

"... You have no sense of self-preservation do you?" Arthur finally managed to get out.

"Yeah, Imma gonna pretend that I know what that means." Alfred nodded brightly.

Arthur stared at Alfred for a few moments, seeming like he was debating whether to hit

him on the head for his idiocy or to laugh. He chose a slight punch to the head, well aware that Alfred was hurt. Matthew just sighed again.

"Did you by any chance bring us some food?" Matthew asked Arthur.

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Arthur turned and asked Matthew who just sighed softly again. _Why did this always happen? _Matthew wondered to himself watchin Arthur chastise Alfred some more. Even though Matthew had never met Alfred and Arthur before in his life he couldn't help but feel comfortable around them, relaxed even. The feeling was dangerous, he could be killed at any second by these two and yet, somehow, those proud blue eyes and those soft green ones spoke only of trust and kindness. Alfred had almost gotten himself killed rescueing Matthew, so he couldn't be all that bad.

"And I just felt so bad leaving poor, defenseless Mattie on the ground." Alfred exclaimed, telling the story again to Arthur who just rolled his eyes. Mattie couldn't help but chuckle. _We're like a dysfunctional family._ Mattie stopped at that thought. Somehow the words family and these two people stuck with him, and he mulled them over in his head. It was there, an idea on the tip of his tongue if only he could-

"Mattie! Get us some food, ya?" Alfred's voice drove into his thoughts and he promptly got up, tucking them away for later musing.


End file.
